


Absent Silhouette

by SymbioticAntithesis



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioticAntithesis/pseuds/SymbioticAntithesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No amount of studying could have prepared him for those mesmerizing eyes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absent Silhouette

Zexion had always been a practical person. He liked definition; fact over speculation. But despite this he found himself seeking answers to seemingly unanswerable questions. How will he regain his heart? Did he still have echoes, memories of emotion? How is it that he’s alive but not truly existing at the same time? Scientifically, the questions and answers were illogical, impossible. One cannot inquire such things. For how can one live without a heart?

And yet, he existed.

When the Superior said that Kingdom Hearts would return what they have lost, Zexion was skeptical. How can a heart-shaped moon achieve the impossible? Recover his heart? Utter nonsense. He had followed Xemnas’ orders once before and never had he dreamed that it would result in such dire consequences. Now without a heart, without emotions, he teetered between life and death, dark and light, oblivion and awareness. Such an awkward existence.

Then there was talk of the Keyblade’s Chosen One. There were stories that told of the Keyblade’s vast powers, how it could release the hearts of the heartless, seal or open any lock, and how it could either bring utter destruction or peace to the worlds. Xemnas started to preach more and more about Kingdom Hearts. If the Keyblade continued to vanquish heartless, then surely Kingdom Hearts would grow and with its power and grace, they can become whole again.

Zexion, being practical, didn’t believe it.

He hadn’t even believed that the heartless existed until Xeanhort had shown him solid proof and evidence of the creatures of darkness. But once he was enlightened, he had thrown himself with fervor to the study of the subtle balance of the worlds. His curiosity, of all things, was his downfall. Had been all of their vices. And he loathed the day he became a disciple of Xeanhort, later known as Ansem, the imposter.

But Xemnas was the Superior, and Zexion therefore had to bite his tongue and do what was expected of him. He researched with Vexen in the labs and dutifully gave his reports to the rest of the Organization. Sometimes he would be sent out to patrol in the other worlds and he would bore himself out of his mind by the monotony of it all. Quite frankly, Zexion had no interest in Kingdom Hearts. Not in the slightest.

That was until the thirteenth member joined the Organization.

He wielded two strange looking swords.

And just like that, Zexion’s attention was captured.

At first, Zexion watched from a distance. What he learned from observation was indispensable information. Roxas, the thirteenth member of the organization, the Keyblade wielder, was different. Just what was different, however, Zexion couldn’t quite put his finger on. He noticed that number XIII was easily angered and snapped at everyone when aggravated. Number XIII was silent most of the time and had a dry, sarcastic humor which he unleashed on anybody and everybody happening by. Zexion had to admit that it was quite amusing to see Larxene throw a fit because Roxas threw a snide remark in her direction and thereby challenging said instigator to a duel and consequently losing said challenge.

What intrigued him most was Roxas’s element: Light. Light from darkness? Surely there must have been a mistake. In the darkest pits of the earth, there was no light. And even they as Nobodies were trapped halfway between light and dark. How, then, could number XIII’s element be simply Light? It wasn’t possible.

And those weapons of his, surely they couldn’t be the fabled keyblades. A fake, mayhap? But no, Roxas was a true Keyblade wielder; his skill was palpable. Then if a wielder of the keyblade was susceptible to the heartless, what of Xemnas’s beloved Kingdom Hearts? Their supposed break to freedom?

But Xemnas only became more ardent after Roxas joined the organization. This confused yet interested Zexion. What could make Xemnas act in such a way?

Roxas had to be the answer; the intricate yet ambiguous key to the puzzle.

And Zexion loved puzzles.

So he continued to observe the Keyblade wielder and his interactions with the other members. He seemed to slowly warm up to number VIII and IX, Axel and Demyx, the troublemakers of the group. And in befriending the two rouges, Roxas was ‘officially’, as Demyx called it, initiated into the organization. Zexion watched, waited, and recorded.

And then he made the mistake of looking into those eyes.

His eyes, while harsh and cold, held such promise, such hope to a future. They had a shine, a sparkle that none of the other members had. Did none of the others notice? How could they not? They had _life_ in them. Something that was missing in the other Nobodies eyes. And that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

Because Nobodies didn’t _have_ a life; they existed, yes, but they weren’t supposed to. ‘Life’ implied having a reason to live, which implied desires, which then implied emotions; and Nobodies couldn’t feel emotions because they had no heart. How was it, then, that Roxas seemed to be able to _feel_? To truly _feel_ something, be it a fluttering vestige of an emotion, it was still more than this nothingness that settled in the area where his heart ought to be. He couldn’t help but wonder, then, what exactly was so different about Roxas. There had to be something different, because Zexion was never wrong in his assumptions.

And just like that, Zexion’s not-life changed.

~*+=

When a puzzle was placed in front of him that needed to be solved, Zexion would attack it with such fervor he would sometimes lose all concept of time. He didn’t realize that he hadn’t slept in days, neither had he eaten. In his subconscious, he figured that since he didn’t exist anyway, there was no need for the usual bodily urges that kept a human alive. He wasn’t a human and thus didn’t have to waste time on such frivolous things. He hadn’t even realized that he had been ignoring his duties for the Organization, not until Xemnas himself approached him about it.

But being the silver-tongued genius he was, he managed to talk his way out of any punishments that Xemnas may or may not have had in store for the Illusion master. After that encounter, Zexion made a mental note to himself to pay a little more attention to his surroundings, just a few minutes—despite the fact that a mere second could change everything in his calculations thus far—to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important.

The only ‘important’ thing that he had so far observed was number XIII’s growing relationship with number VIII. This fascinated and intrigued him. What was so special about Axel, he wondered, that Roxas felt a sort of inclined affinity towards him? Number VIII, as far as he was concerned, was brash, obnoxious, and extremely arrogant. Exactly what he had to be arrogant about, he hadn’t the faintest clue, but Zexion avoided him for his sheer lack of intelligence. Axel was conniving and sly; attributes that Zexion steered clear of, even if he himself could be a conniving bastard if he so wished. He preferred honesty and hard-work--though he hated getting his own hands dirty--which were traits the other members unfortunately lacked, and thus Zexion was left more-or-less by himself.

Not that he minded.

He’d rather work alone in any case.

Zexion noticed that Roxas was much the same way. Though he seemed to have become ‘friends’ with number VIII, he never tolerated the red-head’s presence for very long. This was something Zexion could understand completely; Axel was an idiot. A cunning idiot, yes, but an idiot nonetheless.

When said idiot would shoot snide remarks towards him—because he liked to instigate inane fights like that—he’d deftly brush them aside, but not without noticing Roxas’ gaze on him, observing, calculating; something that Zexion thought impressive, amusing, and intriguing all at once.

And those eyes, Gods, those _eyes_.

He couldn’t get enough of them.

Maybe he ought to actually talk to him one day; it could prove useful to his investigation.

And who knows, maybe it’d help Zexion solve the ever elusive puzzle he had taken upon himself to unravel.

~*+=

“You’re Zexion, aren’t you?”

He fought the urge to jump, the voice startling him out of his thoughts. Then his eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he _recognized_ the voice; it was _his_.

Turning to face him, Zexion replaced his mask of cool indifference and answered that yes, he was Zexion.

“You’re the _smart_ one.”

That’s not fair; the five others of the original six were all smart in their own ways—Vexen more than anyone—and he voiced this to the blond.

“Yes, but you’re the smart one,” he stressed, and Zexion knew what he meant: Kingdom Hearts was an illusion, the search for their hearts was fruitless, and this whole charade would end in disappointment.

Zexion couldn’t help but smile a little; this kid was sharp, and he told him so.

Roxas’ lip twitched and he said, “Thanks.”

This was turning out to be much more interesting than he had first thought.

~*+=

After that encounter, Roxas would come down to the laboratories more often and they would talk. They would talk about philosophies, the Organization, their existence, anything and everything; no subject was off-limits.

He found it refreshing to have someone on the relatively same mental level as he was and Vexen didn’t count; the Ice master was much too absorbed in his own experiments to have such conversations like he and Roxas had. In a few weeks time, Zexion had nearly forgotten about his puzzle when it was, more often than not, sitting right in front of him. Before, Roxas had been a mere specimen but now he was an indispensable comrade.

Yes, Zexion admitted to himself that Roxas was a friend. A friend he held in high regard. And this came as a bit of a shock to the Illusion master. Having a friend and actually respecting them meant that he had to have some sort of emotional capacities that made such a thing possible. But it _wasn’t_ possible because Nobodies _didn’t have hearts_. Roxas _shouldn’t_ be a ‘friend’ and Zexion _shouldn’t_ respect him; but he _did_ respect him and he _did_ think of him as a friend. How was this possible?

Maybe ‘respect’ wasn’t something that came from the heart. After all, ‘respect’ wasn’t exactly an emotion, was it? It was more like a . . . thought. An appreciation for something. And appreciating something didn’t mean that your heart had to be in it as well. One could appreciate another’s intellect but have no other emotional attachment or otherwise to that person. One could appreciate another’s hard work on something but feel no need to express otherwise. One could even appreciate _food_ even when one didn’t need it.

(He had realized that since he and Roxas started to converse, he started to act more and more like an actual human being; eating and sleeping whenever he ought to, and other such things he once found superfluous and inane.)

Yes, that made sense; appreciation wasn’t an emotion so Zexion wasn’t going against the rules of his non-existence.

His subconscious, though, nagged at the back of his mind.

_How can you be so sure?_

~*+=

When Roxas had failed to descend to the basements one day, Zexion felt curious and a bit hurt. But ‘hurt’ was an emotion of the heart so he quickly dismissed the feeling.

When he saw Axel arm casually draped over Roxas’ shoulder, Zexion felt furious and jealous. But ‘anger’ and ‘jealousy’ were emotions of the heart so he also dismissed the feeling.

When he saw Roxas smile and laugh openly with Demyx, Zexion felt saddened and confused. But ‘sadness’ was an emotion of the heart . . . and he couldn’t ignore the feelings anymore.

These _emotions_ Roxas instilled in him . . . how could it be possible? It shouldn’t be possible. But he couldn’t deny that he had _felt_ something.

Then he realized that maybe, just maybe, emotions didn’t come from the heart at all.

~*+=

Zexion was a practical person; he rarely did anything that was irrational or not well thought-out. But the past couple of days of him stressing, calculating, trying to figure out _how the hell this was possible_ had thrown Zexion’s reasoning straight out the proverbial window.

And that was why, when Roxas finally revisited the basements, Zexion gave into the impulse to kiss him. He had expected some sort of retaliation, an outburst, but Roxas had leaned into the kiss, surprising him so much that Zexion stepped back.

His face probably gave him away because Roxas chuckled and said, “It took you long enough.”

What? His expansive vocabulary was failing him.

“I think we’ve both realized that maybe emotions don’t come solely from the heart. After all, how could we want something like this if we are incapable of feeling?”

That’s true. He managed to compose himself quickly and with grace.

“But I suppose that also makes us not as smart as we deemed ourselves to be.”

What is that supposed to mean?

Roxas smiled, albeit a bit sadly, “We thought that Nobodies having emotions was preposterous and yet here we are, _feeling_ something we shouldn’t, _wanting_ something we mustn’t.”

His lips twitched into an ironic smile. Maybe so, but having ‘something’ is better than nothingness.

Roxas stepped forward and kissed Zexion softly on the lips. “I suppose that’s true, too.”

~*+=

The following weeks passed in a blur and Zexion eagerly explored this new, uncharted territory. They continued to meet in the basements, but their conversations became increasingly interrupted with other activities involving the mouth and tongue. Both of them, however, kept their professionalism whenever it was necessary and no one knew of their little affair. And he preferred to keep it that way.

But when he stumbled information while digging through the archives in the basement of the castle, information that he probably shouldn’t know, information he had _wanted_ to know since he looked into those mesmerizing eyes, Zexion, for the first time in his past life and not-life, didn’t know what to do with himself.

_What should I do?_

He took his time to think this through carefully, because Roxas was thankfully off on a mission. Though he missed the other Nobody greatly—something else that shouldn’t be possible if they were incapable of feeling emotion—but was also infinitely glad that he could completely assess the situation on hand without the one directly related to this in his presence.

How could it be, he wondered, after all this time searching, he honestly didn’t want to know this bit of information anymore? Yes, everything fell neatly into place with this but it also made things a little more complicated.

Should he tell Roxas? It directly influenced him and Zexion was sure that Roxas would like to know the truth, seeing as the Superior had kept it from him for so long. If he were in Roxas’ place, he would also like to know the truth. But did it mean that it was the right thing to do?

What constituted as ‘right’ and ‘wrong’? It was a question that couldn’t be answered, just like how ‘ _why can I feel when I’m not supposed to?_ ’ had no logical explanation.

No, logic and rationale no longer played a role in this particular predicament. Zexion would follow what was in his non-existent heart: he would tell Roxas. He deserved to know.

He just hoped that he wouldn’t be losing him in the process.

~*+=

Roxas returned from his mission a few days later and Zexion felt apprehension. _Feelings_ ; how he hated the concept so. When he finally decided on what he was going to do, Zexion eventually became bitter. Roxas had a definite chance in becoming whole again while Zexion . . . Zexion’s Somebody— _Ienzo_ —was long gone. Zexion would forever be stuck in limbo while Roxas would regain his heart. Roxas would leave him. And Zexion wouldn’t be able do anything about it.

He had thought that maybe he could withhold the information and force Roxas to remain as a Nobody, doomed to an awkward existence, just so he would stay with Zexion . . . but Zexion couldn’t. Roxas deserved to know and Zexion would be the one to tell him.

Zexion called his name.

The blond looked up and the words that were on his lips were lost. Why was this so difficult? After all this time, Roxas had no idea that his other half still existed, that his other half was, in fact, the very one Xemnas was plotting to use to build Kingdom Hearts. Because of Zexion’s curiosity—no longer practicality—he had finally unearthed the truth about Roxas.

_Sora_.

Do you know why you have the Keyblade?

The blond gave him a puzzled look.

Surely you have noticed that Xemnas treats you a little differently from the others.

Roxas frowned, “I guess so. But what are you getting at?”

You . . .

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because just then, Xemnas called a meeting and they could do nothing else but oblige.

Later. He will definitely tell him later. He must.

~*+=

Unfortunately, ‘later’ would be postponed for a longer time than he first expected. Roxas almost immediately left for another mission and he was once again left alone without his favorite Nobody. He didn’t think he’d be able to hold this information to himself for much longer; it was too much.

Then, a couple of days later, Xemnas issued him an order of his own. Castle Oblivion. He was to leave in a week’s time and Roxas still hadn’t returned from his latest deployment. Zexion grew restless as the days passed which was very uncharacteristic for him, and alienated himself from the other members more than usual.

When Roxas finally returned the night before Zexion had to depart, looking tired and disheveled, he almost jumped out of his seat in utter relief. Their eyes locked for but a moment but the message was conveyed implicitly: _I need to talk to you._

The blond nodded in acknowledgment and started down the hall towards his room. Zexion simply summoned a portal.

A couple minutes later, while Zexion was fretting himself into as much of a frenzy he could get himself into, Roxas stepped into his room and Zexion was waiting for him. Roxas immediately sensed Zexion’s mood and a look of concern graced his features. “Zexion, what’s wrong?”

He told him without preamble that he had to leave for Castle Oblivion on the morrow.

Silence. “. . . What?”

Xemnas issued an order and I am leaving with Lexeaus and Vexen.

Roxas remained silent.

Remember when you asked me once whether or not we can truly get our hearts back?

He nodded slowly, not comprehending.

I think . . . that it really is possible. At least for you.

“I thought we agreed that Kingdom Hearts doesn’t exist?”

It’s not that.

“What? Zexion I don’t get—“

Your Somebody is still alive, Roxas. He always has been. How you were born is a very unique case indeed. It was rather unconventional. But I think that you, above all of the other members of this Organization, have the highest chance of regaining your heart.

“. . . I don’t think I understand.” Roxas had a confused, close to fearful look on his face.

I’ll show you.

Using his power over illusion, Zexion closed his eyes and slowly started to transform. He became a little shorter, his hair grew spikier and turned a deep chocolate brown. When he opened his eyes, they were more vivid, brighter than his own. He stared back at the shocked blond and spoke: His name is Sora.

“How . . . ?”

You should find him, Roxas. Then you will be whole again.

“What about you?” he asked, though surely knowing the answer to the question posed. So Zexion didn’t respond.

Silence reigned for a long moment before Roxas spoke again. “Thank you.”

And Zexion smiled.

Maybe even the deepest darkness there would still be a bit of light. Roxas had been his, though he never realized it until recently. How unfortunate that he would lose his light just as soon as he had found it.

And he didn’t think he’d find another one. So he did the only thing he could and kissed Roxas, trying to commit everything to memory, every smell, every taste, every _feeling_ ; because he knew he’d never _feel_ again.

And Roxas kissed back.

~*+=

Something had made him forget. He didn’t know what, but he couldn’t remember their last conversation. What had they talked about? He wanted desperately to ask Zexion, a bit ashamed at his memory loss, but he couldn’t. Because somehow, Roxas knew that Zexion was gone.

A part of him envied Zexion; he was no longer straddling light and dark, no longer a being that should not exist . . . Roxas was still Roxas and he hated it. Hated it even more now that Zexion was dead. But could he have really ‘died’ when he wasn’t of the living in the first place?

He wants to know; he had asked Axel this once, but he hadn’t even known what he wanted to know. He just . . . did.

_Sora_.

Why did the name sound so familiar?

There were so many questions he didn’t have the answers to, answers he _craved_. So he decided, that though he only had a name to go by, he would find this ‘Sora’ and have his many questions answered.

And he knew that Zexion would want that of him, too.

After all, what did he have to lose?

All that was left of anything was an absent silhouette.

~*+=

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal and fanfiction.net on June 13, 2009


End file.
